Old Jim From Derrinagree

He'd like to spend his last days in the homeplace
In the Village he left in 1953
As a twenty year old and almost in his prime day
Beyond Duhallow there was much to see.

In three score years there are so many seasons
It's more than halfway to a century
And ageing Jim is showing his years in greyness
He's clearly not the man he used to be.

The oak sapling he planted by his parents cottage
Has matured to a proud and massive tree
And the family cottage now lived in by strangers
And his relatives all gone from Derrinagree.

For almost sixty years he has lived in Australia
From old Duhallow more than half a world away
But the old brogue it remains with the migrant
And his north Cork accent still with him today.

In Derrinagree he now might be a stranger
The changes have been great in sixty years
And though many of his old friends gone to the grim reaper
He still feels homesick after a few beers.

He still talks of the green fields of Duhallow
The memories of the homeplace never die
And though more than half a century may seem a long time
On looking back the years just seem to fly.

He left his little Village in Duhallow
When he was young in 1953
And he always talks when he has a few drinks in
Of going back home to die in Derrinagree.